


Priorities

by Mareel



Series: Alone [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Cerberus - Freeform, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Loneliness, Loyalties, M/M, Mass Effect 2, Missions, Temporary Character Death, dying, pre-mshenko
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 22:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4410974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareel/pseuds/Mareel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Searching for answers... and peace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Priorities

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place early in ME2, when John Shepard is trying to come to terms with the circumstances of his death and of his new life.
> 
> It's the first part of a series [Alone](http://archiveofourown.org/series/292868). set during the ME2 time frame, prior to the events of my other stories.
> 
> This is prior to an acknowledged relationship between Kaidan and Shepard but there are enough undertones of it (even if Shepard doesn't understand his own feelings) that I added the mShenko tag.

 

 

Everything has happened too fast - too fast for me, that is. I just lost two years of my life... to being _dead_? So they tell me. I'm having a hard time getting a handle on that. 

The last thing I remember for sure is getting Joker to safety when the _Normandy_ was attacked. My memory of whatever happened after that is vague and my stomach churns when I try to focus on it. If I push past that, there are impressions of being adrift in space, knocked away from the remains of the _Normandy_ by another blast... and gasping for my last breaths. Then darkness... I assume I passed out. Or died. 

So now I'm alive and not liking the folks I have to thank for it. The odd thing is that none of them, from the Illusive Man to Miranda and Jacob, expect me to _like_ it... Cerberus. That recording I heard in one of the labs made it pretty clear that they wanted me back as I was... morality intact. For whatever reason. If they knew me a fraction as well as they thought they did, they would have known I'd despise everything they stand for. God knows I ran into enough evidence of their terrorism while serving on the _Normandy_. 

I still call her the _Normandy_... this new ship carries her name, in honor of everyone I served with, but isn't _my_ _Normandy_. Not yet, if ever. But I surprised myself with the lump in my throat that I felt when I saw her with the nameplate. And there is no denying the joy lighting Joker's face, and in his voice... he has his life back too. How could I begrudge that? 

I can't find out much about the survivors... only that most of the crew did survive and were reassigned. Karin Chakwas was the most forthcoming about it... she joined this Cerberus mission to get back into space medicine. Maybe she knew about me being here, I don't know. But she's no terrorist or sympathizer. 

I don't dare ask about the one person I want to know about the most. Where is Kaidan Alenko? He didn't want to leave the _Normandy_... I had to order him to get the crew into the escape pods. And because he's Kaidan, he obeyed the order. But not without a catch in his voice and a last look in his eyes that I'll never forget.

But he's the last person who would ever agree to work with Cerberus... if they even asked him. I don't know if they did, and I don't want to draw any attention to him by showing my interest in finding him. If he were to refuse their offer, I honestly don't know if he'd be in danger from them. And I won't risk that. 

All I know is that my flank is exposed when I fight. It was fucking scary fighting the mechs on that medical station and trying to locate Tali's quarian friend without feeling any real assurance that someone had my six. And without knowing that someone was watching my vitals, prepared to provide some first aid if I wasn't able to heal-up in time. That missing someone is Kaidan. He was with me on every mission since we set foot on Eden Prime. We'd fallen into a communication style that didn't rely on words. A glance, a nod of the head and he knew what to do.

Sometimes he'd open up to me when I stopped by to chat after a mission. He told me things about his past that I'm not sure he'd ever shared with anyone. I don't remember if he ever said 'I trust you, Shepard' in that many words, but I know he did. With his life. So I guess if anything at all good came of those last minutes on the Normandy, it would be that I was able to keep that trust, to protect him, get him to safety. But where is he now?

________________________________

 

The Illusive Man had some pretty specific ideas about what missions I should prioritize once I took command of the new _Normandy_. As I told him, if I'm in command, I don't take those orders from him. I'll investigate these lost colonists... it's something that needs to be done. But it's my choice to do it. I'll check out the potential crewmates he suggested, but those decisions will be mine as well. 

But first... I didn't expect to see the two messages waiting for me. One from Anderson, to meet him on the Citadel. I guess I won't be entirely _persona non grata_ there if he'll at least see me. I need to try to explain to him that I had no choice about being alive. He'll get that part. I don't know if he'll get that I do need to find out about those Collectors, even if it means using Cerberus to do it. I'll try to explain that. I hate the idea of being in conflict with him. He means a lot to me. 

The other message surprised the hell out of me. Admiral Hackett contacting me just like he always did when he had a mission for me. I don't take orders from the Illusive Man, but even if he calls it a request, I _do_ take orders from Hackett. Nothing would keep me from visiting that _Normandy_ crash site, no matter how I heard about the location. That the Alliance... or at least Hackett... wants me to find the dog tags of the crash victims and place a memorial to them. Hell yes, I'd do it in a minute. We're on our way there now. 

And I'll do it alone, with my memories.

 

_________________________________________________________

 

I'm glad I came down here alone. 

My stomach churned when I saw the wreckage... splintered, sections jutting at all the wrong angles, like shattered limbs. I had to focus on just breathing and then on just putting one foot ahead of the other as I started a search pattern. 

Fuck the search pattern. I'll come back to that idea later. Right now, the things that draw me are the larger pieces of her hull and the occasional glint of light hitting items on the ground... the dog tags of my lost crewmembers. 

Beginning with the first one, I make it a ritual to speak the name on the tag... along with any other information provided. I didn't know all of these people well, but I’d met them all at one time or another... in the mess, down in engineering... All of them were individuals, soldiers, who sacrificed everything to serve. People who were depending on me to keep them safe and bring them back home to their families. 

They knew the odds, and the risks. But they chose to accept positions on my crew. And now I owe their loved ones any closure that recovering these tags may give them. 

I don't know if they ever recovered Dad's dog tags. Mom never spoke of it, beyond telling me his ship had been attacked and destroyed. Maybe by Batarians. I was fourteen, and I never asked for more. Mom had enough on her shoulders without me poking at wounds that couldn't have been healed yet. If those wounds ever heal. I chose to honor my father by enlisting on my eighteenth birthday. She never talked about Dad much, but she hugged me when I left, pulled my head down so she could kiss my cheek and whispered that _your father would be very proud today_. 

I hope he'd be proud today too as I place the memorial for the _Normandy_ and her crew – living and dead. They all served with honor and distinction. 

Walking slowly through the debris field, I sometimes get overwhelming flashes of memory. Just moments. Joker is back in the pilot's chair... Ash is in the mess. I don't sense Kaidan... maybe because I'm not finding his station or my cabin right next to it and that's where he always is in my mind – at his station, and by my side. I'm just glad none of these tags are his. 

Pressly's semi-legible datapad makes me wish there was a way to clear my eyes inside my helmet besides just blinking and blinking again. The man was nothing if not honest. And I'm proud of him for having his mind and heart open enough to learn to value our alien crewmembers. 

It's taking some time to locate them all. Hackett said there should be twenty tags. When I blow up a crate to find the last one beneath it, I know I should head back up to the ship. But I'm not quite ready to leave. 

I'm taking a last look around the site, memorizing it, when I notice something glinting up on a ledge that I hadn't noticed before. I scramble up there and my heart nearly stops. It's my N7 helmet. As I hold it in my hands, for a moment I consider leaving it here, next to the memorial. But there's enough of me here without that. I need to hang onto it... to remind me of who I was once. 

I go back into the largest intact section and stand on the bridge one last time. The ghost visions are gone. It's just me and my memories. Before I return to the shuttle, I look around again at all the parts that made up my life that's over. Maybe Hackett was onto something. Maybe he knew I needed this.

This remembrance, this trip was for me as much as the other victims' families. 

Rest in peace, _Normandy._

_________________________________________________________

  


End file.
